Gunshin
by Kibuka
Summary: Gunshin means god of war. Kagome returns from the modern era to find the village devastated and her friends among the causaulties wrought by a single demon consumed by bloodlust and the desire for battle. Hell sends an Angel bearing gifts...
1. Sorrowful Homecoming

The cool autumn breeze that precedes the coming of winter blew across the lands stirring the grasses into flowing waves of greens and browns. The change in weather was an all too needed respite from the summer heat, which had climbed to record highs causing the deaths of many village folk throughout the Musashi domain. So it was with no small relief when summer gave way to fall.

A sentiment heartily shared by one Higurashi Kagome: High school student, time traveler, and demon slaying Meko extraordinaire. Laughing at the absurdity of that thought, she shook her head as she climbed out of the bone eaters well and into the past. Why'll the first two titles rang true, the third one was a bit of a stretch. She was a Meko and she did slay the occasional demon, but she didn't think of her self as all that extraordinary. In her mind she was simply doing what she could with the gifts she'd been given.

The fact that she was the re-incarnation of a powerful Meko of years past did not concern her (she had moved past that). Nor the fact that at times she had displayed more raw power than her mighty predecessor had. She had seen what arrogance and hubris could do and she had no intention of getting a swollen head over her gifts. Swiftly dispelling any thoughts on that matter, she instead focused on the beautiful weather.

Clad in a blue long sleeve logo shirt and a pair of jeans, Kagome couldn't keep a spring from her step. A pair of hiking boots and her trademark yellow backpack completed her look. With a determined look in her eyes, she felt ready to tackle any obstacle; including a certain loudmouthed, obnoxious, stubborn, childish, socially challenged hanyou. Speaking of Inuyasha, where was he anyway? Readjusting her pack, she nibbled on her bottom lip, a nervous action she never grew out of.

He should have been here by now. Normally she would no sooner step foot in the Sengoku Jidai than he was at her side grumbling about lost time. Even more unusual to Kagome was the fact that she had been _late _in coming back. Late by four days. She had only planned to stay for a week or so to study for her exams. But, noticing her dropping grades, her Algebra teacher had offered her a chance at extra credit. Kagome had of course jumped at the chance.

Algebra was her worst subject and she was in danger of failing. So, after taking her tests, and doing surprisingly well on them, she had burned the midnight oil diving head first into the extra credit assignments. She had fully expected an irate Inu-hanyou to come storming in through her window demanding that they go back immediately. However, much to her surprise and subsequent relief, Inuyasha set neither hide nor hair in the modern era. Elated at first she thought that maybe he had finally learned his lesson, that she would come back but when she wanted to. Three days later, her assignments completed and turned in, Kagome started to worry. Maybe there was something wrong? She could hardly imagine Inuyasha being this patient. Especially considering the fact that since Kouga had joined their group, Inuyasha had been even more insufferable.

Was he injured? Had Naraku struck knowing she wasn't there? A number of scenarios raced through her head. Most unpleasant. However, she was prevented from going back right then. Her friends from the modern era had convinced her to spend an entire day with them. Citing how long it had been since they had all hung out. It had indeed been quite awhile since she had spent time with her modern friends.

So, convincing herself that Inuyasha and the others were fine, she had gone out for a day on the town and quite enjoyed herself. But now that she was back in the warring states period and there was no sign of the surly hanyou those dark thoughts came rushing back to the fore of her mind.

Unconsciously hurrying her steps, she continued on the path towards the village all the while trying to convince herself that everything was all right; that _he _was all right. But, when she crested the hill that overlooked the village, she could no longer hold on to the hope that all was right with the world. What she saw took the breath form her and confirmed her worst fears.

Backpack slipping from suddenly numb fingers Kagome stared out over the devastated village with an ever-rising sense of dread. All across the village huts lay demolished. Some had bee gutted by fires while others were simply obliterated. Craters and scorch marks littered the earth and the very distinctive gouge marks left by the Kaze no Kizu and Goraishi stood out in numerous places and, eyes widening in horror, Kagome saw that one entire section of the village was utterly obliterated.

It was a war zone.

Thoughts of her friends came rushing back to her mind and she found herself running like the wind down towards what remained of the village. She navigated the maze of rice patties without thought and soon entered the village proper. Passing demolished huts, funeral pyres, and the crying dirty and bloodied survivors sifting through the wreckage of their homes Kagome's fears rose ever higher.

_'Please be alright Kaede, Miroku, Kouga, Sango, Kirara, Shippo...Inuyasha.'_

A sense of relief flowed through Kagome as Kaede's hut came into view whole and intact. Her relief soon fled though as Miroku emerged from the hut. His robes were torn in places and drenched in gore. He was favoring his left leg heavily and using his staff as a make shift crutch grimacing with every step he took and his head was heavily bandaged. However, what caught Kagome's attention was the basket of blood soaked rags he carried.

Kagome slowed down as she neared him and as Miroku took notice of her arrival and their eyes met the sickening sense of dread in the pit of her stomach blossomed several fold. His eyes said it all.

She could feel the onset of tears as she took in his expression.

"Ah, your back Kagome." Miroku didn't even try to put on a cheerful front like he normally did in bad situations. There was no reassuring smile and no cheer in his voice. Just a tired sadness in his expression as he looked at her.

It was all Kagome could do to choke back a sob.

"Miroku...what happened?"

He hesitated a few moments, not so much because he didn't know what to say, but because he didn't know exactly how to say it. In the end, the words just spilled forth.

"A demon attacked 4 day's ago, we defeated him but Sango, Kirara, Shippo, Kaede, Kouga, and Inuyasha were injured badly."

_'There alive, he didn't say they were dead!'_

Kagome latched onto that bit of hope like a drowning man to a plank of wood.

"But they'll be all right, won't they." Kagome could hear the pleading almost desperate note in her voice but didn't care.

_'Just tell me they'll be alright, that their going to live. That **he **will live.'_

Miroku couldn't meet her gaze any longer. He let out sigh as he closed his eyes and replied.

"Sango, Kouga, Shippo, Kaede and Kirara will heal. But Inuyasha..." Miroku found it difficult to speak with the lump in his throat and had to swallow several time to dislodge it.

"I...we don't think he's going to make it. He's dying Kagome.

"Oh, gods." Kagome knees almost buckled and she couldn't help the wale that escaped her lips at his words. She desperately looked to Miroku for any sign that this was all just a joke, any sign at all that things weren't as he said they were. But she found none. Just a sense of grief riddled resignation.

"I have to see him," murmured Kagome.

Miroku didn't even try to stop her as she stumbled by him into the hut. It would have been futile, he knew, so he let her pass and clenched his eyes tight and gripped his staff white knuckle tight when the young girls cry of grief reached his ears.

_'I'm so sorry Kagome.'_


	2. Casualties

**Authors Note**: Back from a long hiatus, over two years. A combination of life kicking my ass and a general lack of interest in the whole fandom scene kept me from writing. But now I'm back, for better or worse, and I intend to finish this damn story; though I'm not sure if anyone actually keeps up with Inuyasha fan fics anymore. But I digress. Anyway, I intend for this story to be the first arc in series that will take the Inu group to their final confrontation with Naraku done the way I would like to see it; with pain, blood, tears and sacrifice. Call me sadistic but I like seeing my heroes beaten and bloody. To me it makes their victory or defeat that much more real, more visceral. The DIE HARD syndrome as I like to call it. And since Miss Takahashi decided to leave the ending wide open in both the manga and the anime its all free game. As for the make up of the story, it will be a mix of manga, anime and my own sick and twisted touch so I fore worn you. Their will be blood, pain, and angst ahead in copious amounts. Who knows I might even kill off a main character or two. I never did much like Kouga... Anyway, enough of my mindless blathering. Read and enjoy. Or don't. It's your choice.

**Ch.2**

_4 days ago_

The attack came without warning. One moment the village was peaceful and quiet, the next it was complete chaos.

Sango was first on the scene. Weaving her way through the running villagers she darted from the main path before she came within sight of the demon using the huts as cover. She quickly picked her way through the structures navigating towards the demon by the feel of his youki until she was close enough to make visual contact. Back braced firmly against the side of a storage hut she peered around the structure to take her first good look at the demon.

He was tall, easily 8 feet of hulking muscle, scales fangs, and claws. Two meaty tail like appendages extended from the back of his slightly elongated skull down to mid-back and glowing amethyst eyes blazed with an unholy fire from within deep-set sockets. The only article of clothing he wore were a pair of voluminous white pants stained red with blood.

He casually walked through the village cutting down anyone not fast enough to escape his claws and you could tell by his laugh that he enjoyed every blood-curdling scream he extracted from his victims. But his youki, his youki was the worst by far. In her minds eye she could feel it as it pulsated and danced in contented, unadulterated glee at the bloodshed and death. It was vile.

She couldn't afford to wait for the others. Darting out from the cover the hut provided she hurled Horaikotsu with deadly precision at the demon intending to catch him by surprise. But with an impressive show of agility for someone his size he nimbly flipped over the spinning Horaikotsu and landed lightly on his feet.

Catching the weapon on its return Sango dug in her heels as the weapons momentum sent her sliding back several feet.

When she met his gaze next she found in it amusement. His voice boomed out at her next in a rich baritone.

"I was wondering when you'd come out from hiding slayer." He smiled at the visible shock his statement elicited from her. "You really shouldn't be surprised, after all who could miss the killing intent of your ki or the glorious smell of demon blood that baths you."

His smile turned wicked then. "Now, please bleed for me."

In a flash of amethyst light he was holding an exact replica of her Horaikotsu and in that moment, eyes widened in realization of what exactly this demon was, he threw the weapon at her with blinding speed.

There wasn't enough time to dodge, Sango knew, all she could do was shield herself with _her _Horaikotsu and brace herself. The two giant weapons met with a resounding crack and Sango found herself air born as the impact sent her flying backwards into the side of a hut.

Quickly regaining her footing as the mimic advanced slowly towards her, doppelganger Horaikotsu once again in hand, Sango held the true Horaikotsu in a defensive position out in front of her as she evaluated her options. The disparity between the two of them in terms of strength and speed were staggering. That hit had rattled every bone in her body and she'd barely had time to react. Sound tactics dictated that she keep her distance and hit him with ranged precision attacks. Sango knew it's what she should do; she also knew he knew it's what she should do. So she charged.

If she could surprise him, keep him guessing and off balance then she knew she could win.

She darted in with Horaikotsu attacking with a flurry of arcing assaults. She flowed like water from one attack to the next without pause or hesitation and each strike was like that of the crashing surf as she forced the demon back first one step then two. But the mimics surprise wore off quickly and Sango found her onslaught could budge him no farther. Gritting her teeth in determination Sango re-doubled her efforts, putting everything and more behind her strikes looking for that single opening that she could exploit. Covered in a fine sheen of sweat and muscles protesting under the strain, Sango began to realize that she wasn't going to find that opening. She'd hit an 8ft wall of immovable muscle and scales. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the strength behind each swing began to wane as her arms and shoulders fatigued; no longer able to keep up with what she was demanding from them. The mimic grinned wide in a deaths head mask and suddenly, she was on the defensive.

Sango found herself parrying, ducking, dodging, and weaving for all she was worth only just managing to keep out of harms way. But she was slowing bit by bit as the demon pressed the attack and they both knew it was only a matter of time before she slipped up. Hoping to hinder the mimics wide sweeping attacks with the tight spaces between huts and by some time, Sango retreated back from the road. It didn't even slow him down. The doppelganger Horaikotsu backed by the demons prodigious strength cleaved through huts and storage sheds with the same ease as a farmer taking a scythe to his crops.

And as her cover disappeared and her evasions became increasingly desperate, the inevitable finally happened; Sango stumbled off balance as the mimic brushed aside a sloppy parry and in that split second opening raked the claws of his free hand up Sango's exposed left arm and shoulder eliciting a shout of pain from her that made his blood sing in satisfaction.

The force of the strike sent Sango sprawling to the ground. She hissed in pain as her torn arm hit first forcing dirt and gravel deep into the wound. Scrambling back to her feet she risked a quick glance at the wound. The demons claws had sheered clean through her armor shredding the skin beneath from mid bicep up across her deltoid and clavicle leaving in its wake four jagged gashes exposing the muscle underneath. Blood was already welling up from the wound and running down the length of her arm in a steady stream and though the wound could have been worse, in the current situation Sango knew if she didn't think of something quick she was dead.

Looking into that damn deaths head grin of his as he steadily approached Sango decided that if she couldn't find an opening she'd just have to make one. Ignoring the pain as she flexed the injured limb to test its response Sango marshaled her remaining strength and sprang forward.

Swinging Horaikotsu in an upward diagonal slash with her good arm Sango didn't resist as the mimic blocked the strike with the doppelganger boomerang. Instead, she flowed with the counterstrike pivoting back around and gritting her teeth in pain as she transferred Horaikotsu to her injured arm while simultaneously drawing her wakizashi. The demon blocked the true Horaikotsu with ease but the second attack caught him off guard as Sango reversed her grip on the short sword and lunged upwards right for his heart.

The blessed blade bit hilt deep into his torso angled perfectly just under the ribs but instead of piercing that most vital of muscles, the tip of her blade bit into bone and was halted. The demon Sango realized with dawning dread had a dense barrier of bone protecting his heart. The mimic chuckled darkly then as his free hand clamped down on her sword arm. Caught in a bizarre corpse a corpse Sango met his gaze and snarled in frustration borne of a cheated victory.

"Defiant to the end, I like that. Allow me to show my appreciation."

The doppelganger Horaikotsu disappeared in an instant taking with it Sango's balance; and as she stumbled forward his knee came up into her midsection. Her face drained of color as air vacated lungs, and ribs cracked and broke.

He watched in satisfaction as Sango's Horaikotsu dropped from blood slick fingers, knees buckling as she sank to the ground and arms wrapping protectively around her midsection. Reaching down he picked Sango up by her ponytail as if she were child's toy and basked in her agony. Her face was ashen white and her mouth opened and closed in a soundless bid for oxygen; an act that with each inhale and exhale only compounded the agony of her broken ribs. Blood stained the front of her armor and fell to the ground from the jagged wound in her arm like so many scarlet rain drops. Her pain, her agony was exquisite.

The mimic brought her face right up to his paying no mind to the little flecks of blood that splattered his face with her every exhale and waited for her eyes to focus on him before he spoke.

"There is no shame in this, in losing to a superior opponent. You wounded me; that is more than most humans or demons who have died by my hands can say. And I have killed legions. This is a good death, a warrior's death. Take pride in this as you pass on to the next world."

Sango heard the mimic's words through a thick fog of pain; she even found in them a morbid sense of comfort. But she was not ready to die yet. As the mimic poised his claws for the killing blow she somehow found the will to slip a tear gas pellet from beneath the sash on her waste and drop it at his feat.

Roaring in outrage as the gas erupted around them the mimic threw Sango from him as if burned; coughing and sputtering from the potent herbal concoction. Sango sailed through the air limp, consciousness fading and in her minds eye the image of her brother appeared; pain and sorrow etched into those deep brown eyes she loved so much. Then there was only darkness.

**End Notes**: This second installment was actually going to be longer but my profs slapped me with two rather lengthy papers this past week. So, I figured I'd just cut this in half and post it instead of waiting a week or two until I'd satiated my prof's grade book. A note on the story-a note within a note as it were-when I found this story wasting away on my hard drive and re-read it I was amazed by two things: one, how truly juvenile and poorly executed it was as a whole and two, how frickin' damsel in distress-esk I'd written Sango. When I watch anime, or any Asian action cinema for that matter, I'm always amazed at how old school sexist the female characters are portrayed. They may start out as strong 21st century take-no-crap-from-anyone type characters but they almost always end up turning into plush-doll debutants by the end who need saving and comfort from the male lead. Kagome's a perfect example. She could probably kill every demon in a 10 mile radius but 90 of the time she forgets she even has Miko powers and gets captured by a demon she could fry no problem. I'm a guy and I like to think of myself as strong strapping young chap ready and able to defend the honor of a lady and all that jazz, but this 18th century stereotype crap gets really frickin' annoying. Ranting aside, I did my best to portray Sango as I think she should be. A strong skilled warrior who can take a beating and dish it out in equal parts. I'd appreciate any input from the ladies on how well I accomplished this and how I can improve upon it in later chapters. I would also appreciate any grammatical assistance and suggestions-male or female readers-on the story. Well, I've rambled on long enough. Time to get crackin' on those comparative psychology and ethics papers. Laterz.


End file.
